


come on, baby

by myeyesarenotblue



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, First Kiss, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Meet-Cute, Modern David "Dave" Katz, Reginald Hargreeves' A+ Parenting, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, no beta we die like ben
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:53:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26802460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myeyesarenotblue/pseuds/myeyesarenotblue
Summary: “Dave, my sister has powers,” Klaus says, matter of factly, bobbing his head up and down, “She’s had powers this whole time but my asshole father decided she was too-” and he looks down at the notebook, does finger quotes with one hand, “-'uncontrollable'and'dangerous’to use them.”“Powers?”“Yeah.”“As in-superpowers?”“Yeah,” Klaus says, and then- “I have to tell her," and then- "Wanna come with?"
Relationships: Klaus Hargreeves/David "Dave" Katz
Comments: 59
Kudos: 354





	come on, baby

**Author's Note:**

> what if.... it was season 1 and dave wasn't from the sixties.... and klaus threw reggie's journal into dave's dumpster instead of the academy's one...... and leonard didn't even exist..... haha.. jk jk... unless?? 😳 😳
> 
> y'all this is literally the cutest thing i've ever written, i was legit flustered while writing the ending 😩 ❤️ uhhhhh there are some references to dave's uncle being an homophobic jerk. it's discussed lightly but,,, proceed with caution anyway, ily

If Dave had to pick, he’d say this very exact moment, right there and then, with his entire torso sticking out his apartment’s window and his neck craned down awkwardly to ogle his building’s dumpster, is among the top ten most wonderful things that’ve ever happened to him. 

Because there, buried between seas and seas of spoiled milk and rotten eggs, is a man. 

Not a particularly loud and foul-mouthed raccoon, as he originally thought, and not one of his teenage neighbors digging for leftover booze or something, either. 

It’s far, far better. 

“Who are you?” Dave calls, awed, because he just can’t keep his mouth shut. 

The man startles, looks up all wide eyed and maybe a little crazed, probably wondering who the hell even spoke until his eyes land on Dave. 

He breaks into a sly grin, something boyish, amused. “Ah, a witness to my crimes,” he drawls, nodding along, as if that makes perfect sense, “Worry not, friend. I'll be on my merry way as soon as I find what I’m looking for.” 

God, that makes  _ no _ sense. 

Dave loves it. 

The thing is- 

The thing is, this guy is  _ gorgeous.  _

Absolutely gorgeous, with messy black hair, and bright eyes, and weird leather pants, and he’s been digging through Dave’s dumpster for the better part of an hour like it’s nobody’s business. 

Dave’s in love. 

He’s just- 

He’s  _ in love _ . 

“I’m not kicking you out,” Dave says, because, really- if he was the one dumpster diving that’d be his main concern. “I just- I want to know your name.” 

The guy raises an eyebrow, disbelieving. “And why, pray tell, would you want to know my name?” 

“Uh, comradery?” 

“Sure.” 

The guy keeps digging through the trash, movements a little hesitant this time, without that wild fervor that told Dave he meant business before. But he’s still looking. 

“Can I help you?” Dave blurts out. 

“You wanna enjoy a bath in these lukewarm waters, then be my guest,” he replies, in a tone that implies he believes Dave to be above jumping into a dumpster and digging through trash for a stranger. 

But Dave really,  _ really _ isn’t above jumping into a dumpster and digging through trash for a stranger. 

He decides to do the only reasonable thing to do. 

He takes another look at the beautiful man who he’s half convinced is probably his soulmate, and decides  _ fuck it- _

Fuck it. 

Dave climbs out of the window and into the fire escape, nearly tearing his curtains off the wall in the process, and then, before he can think it through, jumps right into the fucking dumpster. 

It’s  _ gross _ , and smelly, and squishy, and-  _ gross _ . 

Just- _ gross.  _

But- 

He lands next to the pretty man, who’s looking at him with a surprised but delighted expression, like the sun somehow shines right out of Dave’s ass, “Who are you?” he blurts,  _ awed _ , and Dave gives him his brightest smile. 

“Dave Katz,” he tells him, feeling oddly proud of himself for managing to put that stupefied look on his face. He extends a hand towards him. 

The guy stares at him for a moment, something pleased in his smile, and then he’s reaching for him ever so slowly, never breaking eye contact, a twinkle in his eyes. His hand is stupidly soft, and kinda cold, and smeared with something sticky.  _ Dave’s in love.  _

There’s a word tattooed on his palm. 

_ (Hello.)  _

“Klaus Hargreeves,” he says, and it’s the most beautiful name Dave’s ever heard. 

_ Klaus.  _

_ Klaus. Klaus. Klaus. Klaus. _

_ Klaus and Dave. Dave and Klaus.  _

Their wedding invites are going to look  _ amazing _ . 

“So,” Dave says, reluctantly letting go of Klaus’ hand. “What are you looking for?” 

Klaus gives him a sheepish little smile. “Well, you see, you know how it is- I might or might have not tossed some of my pop’s  _ very _ important,  _ very _ sensitive documents in this lovely dumpster of yours.” 

Dave snorts. “He sent you to get them? 

“Oh, no,” Klaus replies, “The old man’s dead. Thank God.” 

“Oh,” Dave says, smartly. He doesn’t really know how to react because his first instinct is to say _ “sorry for your loss” _ , just like his Ma trained him to, but-  _ thank God? _ “I take it you weren’t very close.” 

“Oh, hell no. He was a prick.” Klaus replies, easy. 

Dave nods. 

He knows a thing or two about asshole fathers. Uncles. Uncles who are also father figures. 

He sort of wants to ask Klaus about it, ask him exactly how his father was a prick, and can Dave do anything about it? But that would be too prying, too nosy. Dave literally just met this man and he doesn’t want to be a jerk. Maybe they should leave childhood trauma for another time. 

“So, uh, sensitive documents?” Dave ventures, taking a look at the mess of random trash they’re standing in. 

It’s really, really gross. 

It’s messy. 

It’s a needle in a haystack. 

“Yeah, yeah, sensitive documents!” Klaus says, overly enthusiastic, kneeling down and digging through some rotten pieces of god-knows-what. Dave does the same. “I think there was a red notebook? And some loose papers.” 

“We’ll find them,” Dave promises. 

* 

They find them. 

_ Miraculously _ , they find them. 

Dave honestly thought they wouldn’t. 

Most of the loose papers are goners, wrinkled, and stained, and generally unsalvageable, and Klaus informs him he’s pretty sure he tossed far more than they found, but still- 

They find the red notebook. 

Dave invites Klaus up to his apartment because he’s still convinced he might just be in love and he wants to get to know him better, but also because they’re both completely soaked trash-juice and rotten things, and they should probably clean themselves up, and Dave’s got running water up there. 

They’re halfway up the stairs, though, when Klaus flips open his father’s notebook and absentmindedly starts reading. He freezes. 

He just-  _ freezes _ . 

“Uh, Klaus?” Dave starts, jolting to a halt when he does. 

Klaus reads, and frowns, and reads, and frowns again. “Shit,” he blurts, and for some reason he turns to the side, faces empty air, “Shit, Vanya has powers.” 

“What?” 

“Oh my god,” Klaus says, nearly a shriek, still reading, still frowning, “Oh my god, that- that  _ bastard _ . What the hell is wrong with him?” 

“Klaus?” 

Klaus looks up at him. “Dave. Dave, my dad was a bastard.” 

“Oh,” Dave says. “Uh, sorry?” 

Klaus nods, keeps reading. 

He flips a page. 

He throws a hiss at that empty patch of air. 

“It says so right here,” he blurts, suddenly, glaring at nothing, “you think I would make this up? I’m not- oh my god, that’s why Pogo wanted the box back, he  _ knows _ . What the hell is wrong with this family?” 

“What-” Dave starts. “What does it say?” 

“My sister has powers,” Klaus says, matter of factly, bobbing his head up and down. “She’s had powers this whole time but my asshole father decided she was too-” and he looks down at the notebook, does finger quotes with one hand, “- _ ’uncontrollable’ _ and  _ ‘dangerous’ _ to use them.” 

Now, Dave’s a little lost. 

“Powers?” 

“Yeah.” 

“As in-  _ superpowers? _ ” 

“Yeah,” Klaus says, and then- “I have to tell her. She- she needs to know, she’s thought she was ordinary her whole life. I have to tell her, like- right now.” He tucks the book in his pants’ waistband, nods along while staring directly into that patch of air. And he turns around, goes to leave, but then- 

He twists his head back, shoots Dave a sheepish little grin that leaves him weak at the knees, “Hey, I know we just met and everything, but- wanna come with? You’re gonna  _ love _ my family.” 

And Dave- 

“Absolutely.” 

* 

Klaus grabs his hand. 

Klaus grabs his hand. 

Klaus grabs his hand and suddenly they’re  _ holding hands _ and running wildly through the streets, and Dave genuinely does not even care he has no idea what’s going on or where he’s going because he’s holding Klaus’ hand and literally nothing else matters. 

Klaus leads him towards the nicer part of the city, where all the rich folks live, and- 

And he stops right in front of a mansion. 

A literal mansion. 

Like- the largest mansion he’s ever seen. 

UA, the doors say, and then the glass panel is full of painted umbrellas, and Dave feels like he should be having a revelation of sorts but nothing comes to him. 

“C’mon,” Klaus says, pushing the doors wide open and beckoning him inside. “Come in.” 

So Dave does. 

Klaus lets go of his hand. 

Dave tries very hard not to pout childishly. 

The inside of the house is- large. Large. Large is one word for it. It’s plain gigantic, really, with marble floors, and wooden panels, and opulent light fixtures, and- 

Dave’s a little lost. 

Klaus heads straight to the right, to another gigantic room that could probably house an entire orphanage or something but instead serves only as a living room. Dave follows, because he’s not really sure how he ended up wandering around a mansion. 

When they get to the living room- 

There are people, in there, hanging around. 

A stupidly tall man, all blond hair and large shoulders, a serious expression on his face. 

A stupidly tiny woman, brown hair and an air of inferiority. 

Another man, littered with scars, wearing an  _ actual _ ,  _ literal _ leather harness over his chest, full of knives. 

A teenager-  _ a child _ , really, nursing a goddamned margarita. 

And- 

_ Worldly renowned actress Allison Hargreeves-? _

Dave stops, stares. 

He frowns, opens his mouth and goes to speak, but then- then, he has that revelation, “Oh,” he breathes, relaxing a fraction now that he’s pieced it all together, “Oh, you’re the Umbrella Academy.” 

He’s met with various expressions of disdain. 

Klaus scrunches up his nose next to him, pretends to gag, “We do not speak that name in this house,” he informs him, all faux offence. 

He smiles, though. 

Dave smiles back. 

He makes a note to remember to ask about his and his family’s apparent hatred towards the Umbrella Academy. He was a kid in their prime. He never watched the news, much. He was only vaguely aware of their existence, too busy doing whatever the hell a kid does. 

Although- 

It does explain a thing or two. The powers thing, for instance. 

“Klaus,” Allison says, suddenly, stepping closer, “Uh, this was supposed to be a family meeting?” and she shoots Dave a meaningful look, apologetic. 

“What?” Klaus starts, “No, no, no, this is just Dave. He’s fine. Don’t you worry about him, he can stay,” and then, a frown, “Wait- family meeting?” 

Allison nods, looking uncomfortable all of the sudden, “Yeah, family meeting. Luther and I found this tape of the night that Dad died and-” 

“Oh, no,” Klaus says, interrupting. “No. Nope. I’ve decided I don’t care.” 

“Klaus-” 

“No, whatever you’re going to say, I’ve got bigger news,” Klaus says, smiling wildly, “Also, fuck Dad.” 

The big man rolls his eyes, walks towards the kid and snatches the margarita right out from his hands, swallows it all down in one big gulp. The kid glares daggers at him. Dave gets the impression he’s debating the pros and cons of murdering him. 

“Klaus,” Allison says, “This is serious. It’s about Dad’s death. I think Mom might have-” 

“Nope,” Klaus says, all over again, and then he’s facing the other woman, tiny and unassuming. “Hey, Vanya,” he calls, cheery, “Guess what.” 

Vanya freezes, looking around as if she’s not all that sure she’s the one being addressed. 

Klaus doesn’t wait a single second, “You have powers,” he says, and the entire room comes to a halt, an awkward pause, heavy, “Yay!” Klaus babbles, clapping his hands. 

It’s- 

Everyone stares at Klaus as if he’s lost his mind. 

“No, I don’t,” Vanya says. 

Klaus puts a hand over his chest. “You do.” 

“Klaus, you know I don’t-” 

The man with the knives steps forward. “Are you high right now?” 

Klaus pouts, sends Dave a panicked little look for the briefest of seconds, “Diego-” 

“Answer the question.” 

“I- yeah? I mean,  _ obviously _ , but-” 

“Ah,” Diego huffs, “There it is.” and he- he turns around, turns his back on him, blatantly  _ ignores _ him,  _ diminishes _ him, turns to the big man and resumes conversation as if Klaus never even spoke at all, “Now, Luther, what the hell were you saying about Mom? Because I swear to god I’m-” 

“Hey,” Dave says, right before it occurs to him he probably shouldn’t anger the giant dude and the dude with knives strapped to his chest. But- oh, well. “Klaus was talking to you.” 

And Diego stops, turns back around. “I’m sorry- who are you?” 

“I’m Klaus’-” Dave starts, then stops, wondering if  _ friend _ is too much of a strong word or if it just doesn’t cut it, because he just met him but he’s not leaving anytime soon, “It doesn’t matter who I am,” he finally settles for, “Klaus was talking to you. You’re his  _ family _ . He deserves for his  _ family _ to listen to what he has to say.” 

Klaus- 

Klaus looks at him as if he hung the  _ moon _ and the  _ stars _ . 

Dave wonders if it’s always like this, for him, and his heart aches. 

Diego crosses his arms over his chest. “He’s high.” 

“So?” 

Dave doesn’t know about Klaus being high or not, but he seems perfectly lucid, and coherent, and sound minded, and even if he wasn't- shouldn’t his family be worried about him, then? Instead of belittling him? 

Diego sighs heavily, resigned, maybe a little guilty, “Fine,” he spits, sharply, and his eyes flick towards Klaus’, “Your boyfriend has a point. What were you saying, stoner boy?” 

Klaus startles under the attention, “Right,” he says, “Right.” 

He doesn’t say a single thing about the boyfriend part of the sentence, and Dave decides it’s probably a step in the right direction. Although, he does seem to be having some sort of-  _ situation _ , with his family. It’s probably rude to ask someone out right in the middle of their family accusing their mother of being involved in their father’s death, and finding out their sister apparently has potentially dangerous superpowers. It’ll have to wait. 

Klaus lifts up his shirt and pulls out the red notebook, waves it around triumphantly.  _ “Vanya has powers.”  _

And there’s that silence once more, heavy and uncomfortable. 

The kid sits up a little straighter, speaks for the first time. “Is that Dad’s journal?” 

And the big guy- Luther, is perking up too, all of the sudden. “Klaus, why do you have Dad’s journal?” 

“Semantics,” Klaus mumbles, waving a hand. “It doesn’t matter why I have it, what matters is that-” he smiles at Vanya, at his sister, “- _ you _ , my dear, are not as ordinary as daddy dearest led us to believe.” 

“That’s- that’s not right,” Vanya says, shaking her head. There’s an edge to her voice that  _ screams _ underlying issues. “That can’t be right.” 

Suddenly- 

Suddenly the kid does- something. 

The kid does something and suddenly there’s a blue light and a distortion of air and he’s just not where he was sitting a second ago, and then the light comes back, right in front of Klaus, right in front of Dave, and Dave jumps back, and- 

And the kid is there. 

_ Swoosh _ . 

Teleportation. 

No one really reacts, so Dave assumes it to be a common occurrence. 

He snatches the book right out from Klaus’ hands. 

“ _ Five _ -” Klaus whines, making grabby hands, and- 

Oh, their names were numbers. 

Their names were numbers for the  _ longest _ time, Dave remembers that much from sitting in front of his uncle’s television screen every morning while he cursed at the news. 

Five ignores Klaus completely, which also seems like a common occurrence, “Shh,” he hisses, immediately going to open the notebook and read. 

And read he does. 

Page, after page, after page, after page. 

Everyone holds back, silently, waiting for Five to find what he’s looking for. 

And- 

He finds it. 

He stops at a random page, likely the same one Klaus found back in his apartment. He frowns, and reads, and keeps reading, and his expression turns more and more bewildered by the second. 

He looks up. 

“Well?” Allison snaps, jittery. 

Five looks up. “It’s true.” 

The reaction is instantaneous. 

“No, it’s not,” Vanya says, her voice edging into a whine, something desperate, “I think I would know it if I had powers, Five. I’m ordinary.” 

But Five shakes his head, “The pills,” he says, and Vanya’s shoulders drop, and then- he glances over at Allison, something unreadable in his eyes. “And a rumor.” 

Allison freezes. 

Vanya freezes. 

Then Vanya’s- laughing, or sobbing, or simply huffing out something broken, a choked noise that comes without any rhyme or reason, “No,” she says. 

She keeps shaking her head side to side. 

Then Allison’s opening her eyes wide, wide, wide, impossibly wide, “Oh god,” she blurts, and yeah, yeah- Dave would recognize that moment of horrified lucidity after remembering a repressed childhood memory pretty much anywhere, “Vanya, oh my god, I-” 

“What are you-” 

“I was a kid. Vanya, I was a kid, I didn’t know what I was doing.” 

Vanya keeps shaking her head, curling in on herself, and- 

And suddenly a heavy rain breaks out-? 

Full with thunder and lighting. 

It was sunny a second ago. 

Dave feels like maybe, just maybe- Vanya's breakdown and the rain might be connected some way. But he’s not about to start making assumptions. 

Five throws the notebook carelessly into a couch. “God, the old man truly was a bastard.” 

And Klaus giggles, “That’s what I said!” he turns to look at him, conspiratorial, amused, “Right Davey?” 

And Dave laughs, too, nods. 

Allison glares at him for some reason. “Klaus, seriously. Who is this guy?” 

Klaus huffs, rolls his eyes petulantly, “This is Dave,” he says, as if they should be familiar with him, “And  _ F-Y-I _ , I like him better than you all combined.” 

Now  _ Allison _ rolls her eyes, and she opens her mouth, and Dave can see their bickering dragging on and on and on, but Five suddenly stands tall, “Shit,” he says, and he sits down on the couch closest to him, like his knees gave out on him. 

“What?” 

“I- Vanya,” Five starts, maybe awed, maybe horrified, “It was you. You cause the apocalypse.” 

And- 

No one really reacts, to that. 

“The- the what?” Dave blurts, into the silence. 

Klaus leans into his space, “Oh, just- the apocalypse. Apparently little Number Five lived in an apocalyptic wasteland for the better part of his adult life with no company whatsoever save for his mannequin lover. I’ll fill you in later.” 

“Oh. Okay.” 

Five and Vanya stare at each other. 

Allison, Diego, and Luther stare at them. 

It’s all very tense and uncomfortable. It reminds Dave of being a kid, and meeting with his family for Rosh Hashanah, and pretending he wasn’t painfully aware of how that one side of the family absolutely despised that one other side. It’s silence, but it’s messy, really. 

Then Vanya opens her mouth, “No,” she says, simply. 

But then Five says, “Yes.” 

And it all goes downhill from there. 

Five starts blabbering something about numbers and equations and unknown variables, and then Vanya keeps saying she doesn’t have powers, and Allison keeps apologizing for something she did when she was literally a toddler, and then Luther gets his hands on the notebook and informs them all very loudly they should do what their dad would want them to do, and then Diego keeps cutting in at random moments, not really saying anything at all but wanting to be a part of the conversation all the same. 

Klaus and Dave stand there, watching everything unfold. 

“Vanya, you’re not listening to me,” Five says, for what has to be the tenth time, “It’s the end of the human race.  _ All of it. _ If it wasn’t you then I don’t know what could kill that many people at once.” 

“I don’t have powers! And even if I did, I- I wouldn’t kill people!” 

“C’mon, we’ve all killed people.” 

“ _ Jesus _ , Five-” 

Dave frowns, decides not to ask any questions. 

The whole thing starts dragging on and on and on, and then, at some point, Klaus is suddenly standing awfully close to him, and their hands brush together, and when Dave turns his head Klaus is there, and-and Klaus reaches for him, gets a hold of his arm and then lets his hand slide down, down, down, until their fingers are interlocked. 

Now,  _ that’s _ holding hands. 

“Hey, Davey,” Klaus whispers, over his siblings’ bickering. “Wanna see my childhood bedroom?” 

Dave does his best not to shiver, “Yea- yeah, of course.” 

And Klaus tugs him along, guiding him up a grand staircase and through a maze of hallways lined with paintings and statues, each looking more ridiculously extravagant and lavish than the next, and Dave goes, but- he can still hear the sound of Klaus’ family’ talking and talking and talking, and they’re- 

They’re talking about the end of the world, and powers, and- turning off their mother, whatever the hell that means. And it feels like Klaus, perhaps, should be a part of that conversation. 

“Klaus,” Dave says, and Klaus slows down but doesn’t really stop, “Don’t you wanna- uh, stay downstairs. With your family? I don’t want to keep you from-” 

“Oh, no, no, no,” Klaus says, smiling easily, “I- I know them, they’re just gonna yell at each other for a couple hours and then go their separate ways. I’m just skipping the yelling.” 

“You sure? They  _ are _ talking about the end of the world.” 

Klaus pffts. “It was Vanya. Five’s just not going to let her out his sight for a single second now, it’s cool.” 

Dave smiles, looks down. 

If Klaus thinks it’s cool then it’s cool. 

They keep walking for a while, and then Klaus tugs him through a random door and into a bedroom, lets go of his hand and shuts the door behind them. 

The room is- interesting. 

It’s cluttered, full clothes and books and random knick-knacks, and there’s not a single spot on the walls that isn’t covered either by posters or strange little drawings, scribbles, words and words and words, Klaus’ thoughts plastered for everyone to see. 

“So,” Klaus starts, and he seems a little nervous all of the sudden. “What do you think?” 

“’S nice,” Dave drawls, “Suits you.” 

He thinks back to his own apartment, his own bedroom, his bare walls. 

He thinks he likes this much better. 

Klaus gives him a shy little smile, “Yeah?” 

Dave smiles, too, “Yeah.” 

And they sort of stand there quietly for a while, staring dumbly at each other. 

Dave suddenly- 

Dave doesn’t know how to go, from there. 

They’re both there, they’re there, right in front of each other, and Klaus is the most beautiful person he’s ever seen, and he’s fun, and he’s interesting, and he’s looking at Dave like he wants- like he wants  _ something _ , like he wants  _ more _ , and- 

And Dave doesn’t know what to  _ do _ , what to  _ say _ , and- 

Dave suddenly- 

“Your dad sounds like a jerk,” he blurts, into the silence, and immediately regrets it. 

Klaus- frowns, stares blankly at him for a second or two, and then- 

He bursts out laughing. 

Just- 

Laughing, and ungraceful snort that scrunches up his face. 

And- 

Yeah, yeah, yeah, who the hell gets sweet-talked into seeing someone’s childhood bedroom, all careful touches and meaningful glances and charged stares, and then just-? 

Blurts that out? 

About that someone’s recently deceased father? 

Dave’s the single most awkward human being that’s ever lived, he decides, and he feels his cheeks reddening but he stands his ground, juts out his chin. 

“I- yeah?” Klaus starts, once he’s more or less done laughing, “Yeah, you- you have no idea, honestly. I’m pretty sure CPS should have taken us away at some point, we would’ve been better off in homes.” 

And now Dave’s frowning. “That bad?” 

Klaus nods very, very slowly. “He was a mean one, Davey. I’ve got all the physical and psychological scars to prove it.” 

And- 

Shit, Dave can’t really help but flash back to his own childhood, his teenage years, the good and the bad, his mother crying, his uncle screaming his lungs out at her- screaming about Dave himself, always, always, letting her know if her son was less of a-  _ if he was more of a man, _ then maybe- 

Then what? 

Uncle Brian never made much sense. 

Dave clears his throat awkwardly, coughs into his hand, “Well, uh, if it makes you feel any better, my uncle was shit and- I-I grew up with him, so-” 

Klaus’ face falls, and he looks sympathetic but not pitying, and- he's perfect, he’s a knowing look, willing to listen, “What would he do?” 

And Dave shrugs. “He was always giving me shit about being gay, y’know? Even before I knew I was gay, he’d just- he- he wasn’t a good person.” 

And it’s much more than that, but at the same time- not really. 

That’s the gist of it. 

Brian Katz was not a good person. 

“Oh, Dave,” Klaus breathes, and now he looks genuinely distressed. 

Dave wonders if his dad ever cared about things like that, for all that he seemed to care about superpowers and ranking systems and drugging children. 

Maybe not. 

Seems almost silly, to even consider. 

Then Klaus starts shaking his head side to side, looking a little disturbed, and he reaches for him, and he clings to his arm and squeezes, and he- “Don’t tell me he was one of those assholes that- jesus, did he kick out or something? Oh my god, if he kicked you out I swear I’m going to-” 

“What?” Dave starts, “No, no, Klaus-” 

But Klaus only squeezes his arm tighter. 

Dave lifts up his free hand, interlocks it with the one Klaus has clenched over his arm. “No,” he says, softer this time, “No, he- he never kicked me out, you can stop worrying about that.” 

And- 

Klaus’ eyes are so very  _ green _ , so very  _ pretty _ . 

“It’s- it’s actually a funny story,” Dave says, and it’s a miracle the words don’t come out jumbled, spluttered, “How I left home, I mean.” 

“Yeah?” 

Dave nods, and- shit, shit, now he’s looking at Klaus’ lips, and- they're pink, and they’re plump, and- “Y-yeah,” he mumbles, “My uncle, he- he wanted me to enlist, and- I didn’t want to.” 

“Mmm?” Klaus breathes, just to encourage him to go on, edging impossibly closer to him. 

“Yeah, and-” 

And what was the point of this story, again? 

Dave can’t remember. 

He lets his eyes wander all over Klaus’ face hungrily, those wide eyes, those parted lips, and- 

“Klaus,” Dave whines, and he doesn’t know what he’s whining for, but- 

Klaus kisses him. 

Klaus closes those few inches between them and kisses him, something soft, something chase, almost innocent, and he slips his hands under Dave’s shirt, ice cold fingers ghosting his waist, and- 

And Dave makes a sound like a wounded animal, and- 

He kisses back. 

He kisses back like it’s the only thing he knows how to do. 

He doesn’t know what to do with his hands and so he ends up cupping the back of Klaus’ neck with one of them, grabbing a fistful of his shirt with the other. 

And they kiss, and they kiss, and it’s- 

It’s so  _ soft _ . 

So  _ tender _ . 

It’s the single most  _ delicate _ kiss Dave’s ever partaken in and he never wants it to end, but- 

But they’re only human and they have to breathe. 

They part slowly, gasping for air, but they don’t really move much aside from that, staying right where they are, leaning into each other, clutching at each other, their foreheads pressed together. 

They don’t speak for a while. 

They get their breathing under control, take each other in. 

“You- uh,” Klaus starts, unwillingly to move, “You didn’t finish your story.” 

“Oh,” Dave says, barely a whisper, and he doesn’t give a shit about his story anymore, “Well, my uncle wanted me to join the army so I would become more of a man or whatever. So I- I, uh, stole his old uniform, and put it on, and- and payed 20 bucks to the only other gay kid I knew to make out with me in front of him. Told him being a soldier wasn’t going to beat the gay out me so he could go fuck ‘imself.” 

And Klaus- 

He- 

He laughs, again, and he steps away from him but there’s that awed look on his face all over again, like he can’t believe Dave’s real, “What?” he breathes, in between his laughter. 

“I’m serious!” Dave says, “He was  _ so _ mad! He gave me a black eye!” 

“Jesus, Dave,” Klaus says, still smiling, and he reaches for his wrist, tug him towards his unmade bed until they’re both sitting side by side, their knees flush against each other’s. 

“It was totally worth it, though,” Dave says, flipping his hand and searching for Klaus’, “I had already been accepted to college like- a thousand miles away from him, so-” he shrugs, “I just left right after. Never saw him again.” 

Klaus nods, looking down at their hands. 

“Dave,” Klaus says. 

“Yeah?” 

“I think you might be my soulmate.” 

Dave smiles, bites his lip, “What a coincidence. I think  _ you _ might be my soulmate.” 

And they smile dumbly at each other, and everything’s soft, and everything’s sweet, and then- 

Then Klaus rolls his eyes theatrically, turns to the side and throws an empty patch of air a  _ venomous _ hiss. 

“Uh, Klaus?” 

And Klaus looks back at him, wide eyes, “Oh, shit, sorry, it’s just- uh,” and he looks sheepish, a little nervous, “Uh, my- my ghost brother? He’s my personal stalker. He says we literally met an hour ago so we can’t possibly know we’re soulmates.” 

“Oh,” Dave says, caught off guard. 

But- 

Superpowers, right? 

Dave’s not about to question it. 

“Well, uh,” he starts, “Tell your ghost brother it’s a pleasure to meet him, and that-” he bites his lip, looks at Klaus in the eye, squeezes his hand a little tighter, “He’s wrong.” 

Klaus breathes out a little giggle, overwhelmed. 

Dave’s in love. 

He’s just- 

In love. 

* 

In another plane of existence, Ben Hargreeves sighs resignedly and leaves the room. 

He’s not in the mood to watch his brother make out with his new boyfriend. 

**Author's Note:**

> it is very important to me that you know that later that night dave found out klaus was homeless and went like "hey do you wanna move in with me? :)" and klaus was just like "okay :)" and then they got married a week later 
> 
> follow me on tumblr [@myeyesarenotblue](https://myeyesarenotblue.tumblr.com/)


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